The Summer I Turned Pretty
by GenericKetchup
Summary: Beatrice Prior has never be anything more than a thick glasses wearing headset and braces bearing, 16-year-old girl. That is, until one summer, she goes from drabulous to fabulous. Along with that, however, she has to go up to the beach house with a group of people she hates... Or does it turn in to the group of people she hated?
1. Chapter 1

_The Summer That I Turned Pretty_

_Chapter One: The Chicago Suburbs Aren't Ideal_

_TRIS POV_

I wake up with a start. Its 7:43 in the morning, the time I'd usually be going to school. No, though. Not today. I am guaranteed my summer break, taking with it my endless name calling and pranking and mean jokes and humiliation. These ninety-two days are like my mini sanctuary in itself: all I have to do is hang out in my room and go to the occasional track practice, where people will, once again, stare at me as if I'm some kind of monster.

My legs swing over my bed and walk down to the kitchen, where my mother and brother, Caleb, are sitting, discussing summer plans. In a few days, he'll be going with his friends up to a place they call, "Camp Petrad." It's not a real camp, really. It's a fair-sized beach house that is about a block or so away from the boardwalk where all of the friends of Uriah and Zeke go for the summer. Of course, Caleb would get invited, even though he is a true know-it-all jerk, especially to me.

"Good morning, Beatrice." my mother greets me. "How'd you sleep?"  
"Fine." I answer quietly, taking my seat next to Caleb on one of the bar stools in our kitchen. "What about you?"

"Wonderful, sweetie." there comes a moment of awkward silence after she answers until Caleb uncomfortably says something again about the beach house.

"So, uh, did you get invited up to the house this summer?" he asks, scratching the back of his neck.

"Of course not, Caleb." I say. "When do I ever?" I snap, pushing my plate of breakfast away. "When have I ever been invited up to that stupid camp?"

"You went in seventh grade." he argues.

"Yes, I did. It was only because Zeke and Uriah's mom invited everyone and their families up, which was a disaster in itself, and I stayed inside the whole time, writing and playing Mario Kart. What a time!" I say sarcastically. He rolls his eyes.

My mom bites her lip as she looks at me.

"Beatrice," she starts. "This is kind of awkward, I know, but I really want you to know that when I do this, I was only in it to help you gain some friends, okay? I was in it to help you."

"What'd you do?" I narrow my eyes. "What could you have possibly done to make yourself so nervous telling me?"

"Uriah's mom called. She wants you to come up this year."

"You said no, right?" I ask.

"No, Bea, I said yes." she answers. That was when I nearly fainted. How could _she, _my own mother, tell someone that I would go to a house full of people I despised?

"What?" I yell. "How could you?"

"Relax." she answers. "Christina's going. You like Christina, right?"

_No. _I think, but use my better judgment and give a small nod. She smiles triumphantly. "I'll even call their mom and have them have a talk with their kids about bullying my Bea, how about th-"

"No!" I yell. "I'm not going to be the kid that has problems and has their mom's give them lectures about bullying. No!"

"Only trying to help." she answers, raising her eyebrows. "Trying to be a good mother, darling, that's all." I roll my eyes.

"Whatever, mom." I say. "Can't we just get this whole summer over with?" She smiles and nods, pushing over to me a checklist.

"Remember to pack _all_ of this stuff, okay?" she asks. I roll my eyes yet again, because she's being so overprotective I can't even stand it. I mean, come on, three extra toothbrushes? I thought she was supposed to be fun.

"Do I have to pack the stuffed animals?" I ask.

She looks at me as if I just grew another arm.

"Yes!" she shouts. "What if you miss home? This could be a reminder of me and your father."

"I don't really believe I'll miss home, Mom, but okay." I give in and she smiles at me.

"Oh, Bea, your dentist appointment is tomorrow, and the ophthalmologist said she'll be in to check out your eyes the day after that." she says.

"Whatever." Little did I know, those appointments were going to be some of the biggest factors in the summer I turned pretty.

-oOo-

"Well, Beatrice, it looks as if these braces will be coming off within the next week. Can I fit you in... tomorrow?" my dentist asks, examining his clipboard.

"Yes, sir. That should be fine." I answer. He smiles and calls to his assistant.

"Jeanine! Schedule an appointment for three 'o' clock tomorrow for Miss Beatrice Prior, please." my dentist calls and smiles back at me. "Alright, Beatrice. You're good to go."

"Thank you, Doctor Rhyes." I say, sitting up and swinging my leg over the dentist's chair.

"You're very welcome." he leads me out to the waiting room. "And I'm no eye doctor, but I'm thinking you're going to want to get new glasses. Those ones are looking a tad small."  
"Thanks." I nod and let him and my mother discuss my teeth while I sit and read a magazine.

That is, until someone walks in and catches my eye.

"Hello, sir." the receptionist says. "Your name."

"Uh, Tobias Eaton." he answers. I recognize him slightly. _Four._

"Four?" I say, standing up. "From Miss Andrew's class?"

"Yes, doofus." he says quietly. "Now stop drawing attention to me. It's bad enough I'm talking to you."  
"Whatever. Just was going to ask if you're going up to Zeke and Uriah's beach house this summer."

"Yes." he hisses. "Why do you care?"

"'Cause I'm going, too." I answer, somewhat proudly.

"No you're not." he argues.

"Yes I am."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Beatrice, are you ready?" my mother asks, interrupting our little verbal battle.

"Yes." I smile and we walk out the door of the doctor's office.

-oOo-

_FOUR POV_

I walk in to the dentist office and see _her _there. That's Caleb's little sister, the short, yet surprisingly fast, track star. She's incredibly insecure, I hear. I really don't interact with her much, except sometimes when Caleb is teasing her, I'll laugh and she'll shoot me a look. Otherwise, I don't say more than two words to the girl.

The lady at the desk asks me for my name. "Tobias Eaton." I respond quietly. I hate being associated with that name.

Then she looks at me and asks, "Four?" like and idiot. "From Miss Andrew's class?"

"Yes doofus." I feel bad saying that, but then again I don't. She could be popular if she wanted to, but every one of my attempts to invite her in to my group turned out to be disastrous, her mistaking it as if I were trying to be a player and make a move on her or something. "Now stop drawing attention to me. It's bad enough I'm talking to you." I hiss at her, and she looks hurt for a moment, then brushes it away.

"Whatever. Just was going to ask if you were going to Uriah and Zeke's beach house this summer." she says. Why would she need to know that?

"Yes." I answer. "Why do you care?"

"'Cause I'm going too." she smiles in victory, making me want to take her and throw her in to Saturday, if that makes sense.

"No you're not." I answer.

"Yes I am."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Beatrice, are you ready?" her mother, who was talking to my dentist, asks.

"Yes." she looks back at me and gives me a somewhat evil smile as they walk out the door.

-oOo-

"So," the dentist starts asking me questions when we're about halfway through the appointment.

"Have any special ladies on your radar?" What?  
"Uh, I guess." I say as he prods at my mouth with shiny sharp objects.

"Yeah?" he asks. "You dating someone?"

"Not at the moment, no." I answer. He doesn't ask any questions after that, until towards the end of the appointment.

"Just got done with that Prior girl." he says. "She's very nice. Intelligent, too. Very pretty to a teenage boy, I'd think. Once she got her braces off, I think she'll be even more appealing. Your thoughts?"

_ Weirdo._ I think, but don't want to be disrespectful. "Yes." I answer. "I don't really care for her, though."

"Is that so?" he asks.  
"Yes." I answer.

"Alright, Mr. Eaton. You're finished. Go ahead."

And with that, I'm out.

-oOo-

_So that was Chapter One. As always, it is much appreciated for you to follow, fav, and review. Also, please check out my other storie: Love Is Weird._

_For Now:_

_-O-_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One: What A Horribly Stupid Thought

TRIS POV

It's the next day, Thursday, and I am once again, enduring the wait at the dentist"s office. I am repeatedly beating myself up about the whole "Four" thing as well, so this is just giving me more time to think of better comebacks and arguments that I could've used.

If only you weren't such an idiot, Beatrice. I think to myself. Maybe you could've hinted that you like him and -

I stop myself mid-thought. I just plainly admitted that I liked Four, didn't I? No, no, no, no. Double, triple, one-trillion NO's. I can't like him. Anyone but him. Everyone knows he's a jerk to me, even him, and he will flatly confess this to any person who asks.

"Beatrice Prior?" A lady opens a door that links off of the waiting room in to the actual appointment rooms. I slowly stand up, not even having any to look back to since my mom decided she trusted me enough to drive down here. Gosh, I so wish she didn't trust me. I'd love some advice right now.

I follow the lady in scrubs in to the second room and she tells me to sit in the chair, which I do.

"I'm Jeanine." She says, unsmiling. "I'm supposed to quickly ask you a few simple questions regarding your teeth and your supposed to answer. However, I think that's highly illogical, considering you're an immature 16-year-old girl with no interest in being here, so I'm going to do an examination myself." She then takes a clipboard off the counter and walks over to me, instructing me to open my mouth. I decide not to; if she wants an immature 16-year-old, an immature 16-year-old I'll be.

"Beatrice Prior, if you so as make me call your mother, I will be extremely upset." She says angrily. "So upset, that I might tell the doctor that your braces are not fit to come off. You want them off, or would you like them on for the next few years, hm?"

I sigh and roll my eyes, and she looks kind of pleased, but it's hard to tell, since her face is always so emotionless.

"I will let you examine my mouth under one condition." I say, my newfound idea making me incredibly proud.

"I'm not in the mood to negotiate, Ms. Prior," she says flatly. "But while I have your attention, I'm going to let you speak, as it is the logical thing to with a teenager." She answers, making the word "teenager" sound like poison.

"I would like to answer the questions, as I am a lot more mature than most." I say. Honestly, I could care less about these dumb questions, but it was the principle of the thing, and, for whatever reason, I felt like I had to prove myself to this lady.

Jeanine frowns and sits in a chair diagonal the one I'm sitting in. "Fine. Answer quick." She instructs. I nod.

"First question. Have you felt any pain lately with the braces?" She asks.

"Uh, slightly, but I dealt with it." I answer.

"Have anyone of the brackets in your braces broken, and if so, please say where it approximately is."

"No." I say proudly. "I've taken very good care of my teeth, ma'am." I sweetly smile and look back at her, who had twisted her lips to the right side of her face.

"Moving on." She says. "Rate your overall dental hygiene, one being the lowest, ten being the highest."

"Nine point five, as I don't like to wear my headgear at night." I state.

"Well then, Ms. Prior, that would bring you down to a seven." She looks satisfied. "Headgear is one of the most important things in braces if you have to wear it, and seeing as you didn't, it brought down your overall dental rating." Then I hear her mutter, "Disgusting!" as she copies my self-assessment (which really turned in to my crazy dentist nurse's assessment.) on to her clipboard.

"Is that it?" I ask.

"Yes." She says. "Dr. Reyes will be here soon, Beatrice. Don't do anything stupid while you're waiting." Gosh, she really hates me.

-oOo-

Time passes kind of quick, and two-and-a-half hours later, I'm sitting at home, every piece of food looking nicer than it ever did since I'm not allowed to eat or drink anything. In a few minutes, I'll have to drive myself to the ophthalmologist and let them shine things in my eyeballs and make me read random letters off a board.

I finally get up and go to the car, trying my best to go slow. Maybe I'll miss the appointment. I tell myself. Maybe. My mind answers. But I make it on time anyway.

-oOo-

"Alright, Beatrice. I'm going to get one of our specialist who will fit you for contacts, alright?" The lady at the front desk asks.

"Sounds good." I say uncertainly. I never really wanted contacts, just, you know, sort of liked the thought of not having thick, ugly glasses on my eyes every. Single. Day.

Then a lady returns with long, sleek, gorgeous dark hair and long, tan legs. She smiles warmly at me.

"I'm Tori." She says.

"Beatrice." I answer her.

"Beatrice?" She asks. I nod. "That's WAAAYY too formal. How about I call you Tris?" I scrunch my nose up in a kind of disgust, kind of curiosity, kind of disgust. Nicknames are reserved for anyone but me.

"Uh, okay, I guess?" I say uncertainly. She smiles.

"It'll take some getting used to, but I think you'll like it." She then goes on with the appointment, continuously telling me that I have to take good care of my contacts, use saline to clean them daily, and all that jazz

"Thank you." I say smiling when she's finished.

"You're so welcome, Tris." She says. "But I did want to ask you something."

"Fire away." I say.

"You seem like someone who's drastically changing," she says. "True or false?"

"True?" It's more of a question than an answer.

"If you ever feel like things are getting hard for you, come see me. I own 'Tori's Tattoos' and also offer advice for teens who are having a hard time with, you know, life." She says. Why would I need advice?

"Thanks." I say. "And these contacts feel kind of funky. are you sure nm can drive home?" I ask.

"No." She says. "They'll definitely take some getting used to, so I strongly suggest you call someone."

"Alright, thanks Tori." I say pulling out my phone. "And I might just take you up on your offer, okay?"

She smiles and nods, then walks back to her office, while I consider who to call. My mom and dad are at work, Susan-my only friend-is on vacation. That leaves... Caleb.

I begrudgingly dial Caleb, who answers after three rings, laughing hysterically.

"Hello? Caleb?" I yell, trying to get his attention.

"Oh, hey Beatrice." He says, recovering from his laughing. "What do you want?"

"Can you please pick me up from the eye doctor? Please?" I ask.

He sighs. "Yeah whatever, but I have friends in the car, so you're sitting in the trunk." He answers.

I growl. "Ugh, fine, whatever." I say. "Just be here soon, alright?"

Then I hang up. Gosh, this car ride will be long.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Because There Was No Room

Caleb pulls up with his gang and I roll my eyes. They're listening to stupid music: "Turn Down For What" at full blast. Caleb rolls down his window to reveal his friend, Zeke, sitting in the passenger seat.

"I'll pop the trunk." He yells over the music. Then he stops and looks at me. Zeke turns down the music, and everyone stares.

"Oh, I - I'm sorry. I thought you were my sister. Sorry." He says. I stifle a laugh and roll my eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be smart, Caleb?" I ask. "I am your sister, you idiot!"

"Where are your glasses?" Zeke asks.

"And you braces?" Caleb adds.

"Your ugliness." Four says.

"Are you calling me pretty?" I smirk.

"Absolutely not. Are you dumb?" He answers.

"I believe that would be you who's the dumb one, Mr. Eaton." I say with a straight-face. We stare at each other for a second, and then Caleb breaks it up.

"You know what?" Caleb says. "I'm wasting gas. Either you come now, Tris, or you don't come at all. I'm fine with either."

I sigh. "Can I at least squeeze in? I don't want to sit in the trunk."

Collective grumbles sound as everyone moves over and makes room. I climb in smirking, and then I realize who I'm sitting next to. Four.

"Idiot." I mutter under my breathe.

"Dork." He replies quietly. I hit him in the side and quickly look out the window, acting like I didn't do a thing. He doubles over in pain, and everyone looks at him weirdly, including myself.

"What happened?" I ask sincerely. "Are you okay?" He bite bites his lip and looks at me.

"Fine." He says. "Wonderful." Then he whispers quietly, "I'll get you back, dork." I smirk.

"No you won't." I say.

"Wait and see." He answers.

-oOo-

My pull up in front of our house, leaving me confused.

"Caleb, don't you have to drop everyone off?" I ask, almost uncertainly.

"Nah, they can stay here." He says, "And use your room." He shoots me a look that say, 'don't question it,' so I don't.

When we walk inside, I take time to look at myself in the mirror. I look... Different. Not stupid. Not dorky. I look like a teenager. That's why they all stared at me. I didn't look like I was twelve anymore; I looked like I was an actual sixteen-year-old.

_This could be the summer I turned pretty._

**Sorry, this chapter was mostly a filler from huge writers block. I have a lot of explaining to do, so I'm just going to jump right in:**

**I'm a dancer, and there's been a lot of drama at my studio lately, and I have a recital Saturday (wish me luck) and I've had to practice. A LOT. So basically, stress and practice and writers block piled on top of a heaping plate of my wifi, which doesn't know if it wants to work or not, and on occasion, staring at a screen and writing makes my eyes hurt, so I don't do it as often as I would like to. **

**Anyway, I will be updating more regularly soon enough, so just wait. I hate being one of those authors, but I probably won't update until Sunday or Monday, and then I will follow the regular schedule set up in my profile.**

**Also thank you to everyone who stayed with this story and told me to update. It meant a lot that people actually cared enough to read my writing. Thanks guys**.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Hello everyone! This time, I decided I am just going to be brutally honest will you all: I have no time to update anymore. If it's not dance class, it's swimming. If it's not swimming, it's camp. If it's not camp, it's going to my local amusement park with my friends. Point is: I try to be as dedicated as possible, but I have no time to update anymore, and for some strange reason, that makes me feel terrible. Honestly, I love writing, and I love you guys, however, I have no time.

That being said, I feel terrible. I know that I have said in the past, "Oh, I'll update this day." or "Oh, I'll do three updates this day! Wooh!" Blah, blah, blah. So, one day this week, I am dedicating myself to finishing these stories and updating them every other day. FOR REAL THIS TIME. Don't worry; these will all be finished by the end of the summer. I can't take having all these unfinished projects – it stresses me out.

One more thing before we get on with the story. I have deleted my other story, "Game Plan" because I have absolutely no idea how it will go. The actual plot is terrible, I have to say, and I would much rather make a better, more exhilarating story with a better plot line and much nicer story. It WILL be a baseball story, probably MLB, though.

Anyway, enjoy the update!

-Liv-

CHAPTER FOUR

I wasted no time becoming the teenager I always wanted to be after that. I never made myself pretty with makeup; I only used it because I had acne and looked like I had a tomato as a face with all the redness and blotches that covered my face. Even then, I only used a BB cream and concealer, as I feared that I would stand out amongst my high school and get made fun of, as other girls had been called "clowns" or "desperate." Not anymore, though. I was turning my life around.

I scavenged through my mother's drawer in her bathroom. She's extremely economic and natural, not wanting to stand out and get attention in a crowd, the same as me, so she only had the fewest, most basic makeup items. Still, I somehow needed these. Maybe it was an ego thing, or maybe it was just because, at the time, I had no other ideas, but regardless, I used the little amount of things I had to work with.

Carrying the things to my room, I bumped in to someone in the hallway. I drop the things on the ground. "Come on, Caleb! Be more care-"

"Sorry." A voice deeper than Caleb's interrupts. I look up to see none other than Tobias Eaton.

"Better be." I mumble, trying to gather my things more quickly. I don't want him thinking I'm trying to be one of "those girls" and make fun of me.

"Whats all this stuff for, anyway?" he asks. My heart skips a beat. What am I supposed to say? Be honest? Lie? It comes out before I can even think.

"Looking better." This answer takes him – and even myself – by surprise. You can openly tell he's uncomfortable and speechless, as his eyebrows raise and he scratches the back of his neck.

"Uh, alright, then, uh, dork. I have to, uh, go." then he quickly walks away in to Caleb's room.

I gather my stuff and run to my room, taking forty-five minutes, just messing around with the meager amount of products my mother has. I know she would be livid if she knew I was being so self indulgent and using her things, so I try to do it quickly. That is, until, I can hear my mother's car pull in to the driveway. "Crap!" I mutter.

I try to shove all of the things in to my top dresser drawer, but it gets stuck, and a brush sticks out.

"Bea! Caleb! I'm home!" she yells from our foyer. I sigh and run down the steps, checking to make sure that my makeup isn't very noticeable, just concealing blemishes. I actually throw on my glasses, thinking that may cover my eye makeup more clearly. I certainly don't want all my hard work washed away in a matter of minutes.

"Hey mom." I greet her at the bottom of the steps.

"Hey Bea." she smiles, setting groceries on the kitchen counter. Then she turns and looks at me. "You were supposed to get contacts today. Why aren't they in?"

"Uh, I took them out." I say. She raises her eyebrows. "Yeah. My eye doctor recommended it. She said that it might dry my eyes out and I should gradually get used to them, not leave them in for long periods of time." That wasn't a total lie, she did tell me that. Only I didn't take them out, I just put glasses over top of them.

"Alright. Well, can you go put them in? I want to see you in them." she says, and then begins gushing over my braces and how white and straight my teeth look.

"Thanks, mom." I smile. "I'll go put in my contacts." I run upstairs and throw my glasses on to my bed, then hurry downstairs. I don't bother hiding my makeup; she was bound to find out.

"Ta-da!" I say quietly when I get down there. She walks closer to me.

"Where did you get all that makeup and why are you wearing it?" she asks.

Just then, Tobias walks in to the kitchen.

And I begin yelling.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Authors Note #2: Alright ladies and gentlemen, I am leaving you with a cliffhanger. This was your update that you all have been asking for. Thank you for reading. :D

xoxo,

-Liv-


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